


Love, Loss and Secrets

by DramaQueen24601



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaQueen24601/pseuds/DramaQueen24601
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having lost their mother and brother when they were younger, Sam and Dean Winchester already had enough grief on their plate without their drunken, abusive father coming down on them all the time. Dean took the brunt of his anger, being the older brother and played off any injuries on other excuses. Better than than lose Sammy to the system. And so it continued on until one day, when John was really drunk and got a bit carried away. The next thing Dean knew, he was in the E.R. with a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes staring at him. John's secret is discovered, and the boys have Child Protective Services breathing down their necks. Dean and Sam have to figure out how to move on from their father and try to make a new life. Only one thing can seem to distract Dean from this hell he seems to be stuck in...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood and Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter has a lot of violence and abuse by John's hand. If you are a fan of John's, you probably do not want to read this. The rest of it isn't as violent as this part, but this first chapter can be emotionally disturbing.

Dean was used to his father’s abuse. He took all of it, quite frequently, and made sure Sammy was out of the way. Sam hated it, of course, but most of the time Dean just made sure Sam was out of the house when it happened. It was pretty regular anymore- every Friday night John would be on a rampage and Sam would be at a friend’s house. He was usually with Sarah, his girlfriend.

This time, though, it was Saturday. Sam was home, and he couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't going to run or hide or be afraid this time. When John started yelling and beating on Dean, Sammy had to step in.

John had started out in his usual stupor that evening. The boys figured he would just pass out on the couch in a few minutes like he normally did, so they were doing their homework in the kitchen. Then John ran out of beer.

“Dammit, Dean, I told you to get some more when you were at the store!” John yelled, his bloodshot eyes full of malice and rage.

“Dad, I’m only seventeen, I-”

“Don’t give me that, boy, that’s why I gave you the fake ID! You never listen to me!” he was leaning in, getting progressively louder. His breath reeked of alcohol and his clothes of TV dinners, which was all he ate when Dean wasn't there to cook.

“I’m sorry Dad, I can go out and-” he was cut off by John slapping him across the face.

“You should have already gotten it.” he growled at his seventeen-year-old son. Dean just nodded, wishing his dad would back off. It wasn't that he was scared, or not strong enough to fight his father. He just wasn't willing to escalate things and risk Sammy’s safety too.

John growled and stormed around the room. He looked like he was about to go back into the living room when he turned back around to face his sons. “Actually, you know what? That’s not good enough.” He crossed back over to Dean, infuriated by his son’s forgetting to supply him with more alcohol. Dean steeled himself, knowing what was coming.

John backhanded him hard on the side of his head. He punched him in the throat, knocking the chair out from under him. Dean stood facing his father. This wasn't going to end well. He looked at Sam, glanced at the way out of the kitchen, and looked pointedly at Sam again before turning his gaze back to John, who punched him in the stomach. Dean doubled over, and the drunken man before him just kept coming. Blow after blow landed on his arms, face, and torso. John kicked him hard in the knee and Dean fell, crying out.

Sam couldn't take it anymore. Being only fourteen years old, and raised in this dangerous environment, he was usually too scared to do anything, but he was watching his brother get beaten. Again. He hadn't actually seen this happen in a long time thanks to Dean’s careful planning, and it felt like being ripped apart from the inside out.

Sam screamed and did the unthinkable. He tackled John from behind.

John tried to fling Sam off, but he held on tight, so he slammed his back into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Sam fell off and John punched him in the nose.

Dean was on the other side of the kitchen, bloody, bruised and winded. He was about ready to pass out until he saw his father hit Sammy. Dean saw red and felt pure rage for the first time in years.

“Hey!” he stood up and got into a fighting position. “Back off, ass hat!”

“Really? You want to try that, again? John laughed and then growled, moving towards his older son.

Dean went to punch John in the face, but he caught his hand and smacked him instead. Dean kneed him in the groin. He yelled out but kept coming. Dean got in a few successful blows, but he was no match for his dad. John grabbed Dean’s hair and slammed his head into the wall. Seven thudding crashes and then he released him in heap on the floor.

Sam started crawling over to Dean along the edge of the room, freezing as John walked past.

“Mind your own business next time, got it Sam? his father said maliciously, spitting on his as he left the room. Sam just nodded weakly and kept moving towards his brother.

“Dean. Dean. Dean!” he was shaking him a little, but Dean wasn't responding. Not even a groan in reply. He was out cold, blood coming out of various wounds and scars all over him, his flesh turning different colors in different places. His face was purple and red, his arms were black and blue, and his neck was a blotchy, bluish black, throbbing mess. His breathing was shallow and ragged and his left leg was bent in a way that looked absolutely sickening. “Dean!!”

Sam carefully wrapped Dean’s arm around his shoulders as he heard the shower start. Good. John wouldn't stop them then.

He hauled Dean outside, precariously attempting not to hurt him more. He fished his brother’s car keys out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the Impala. Dean would kill him for this later, and at least he would be alive to do so. After buckling Dean into the passenger’s seat, he got in and started the car. It was dark out, 8:00 in the evening in October. Sam turned on the headlights.

Having never driven a car before, Sam was trying not to swerve too much, but he was also in a hurry and probably was not the safest person on the road. A police car appeared behind him. He tried to keep driving, to make it to the hospital first and then deal with them, but they cut him off. He was forced to stop, his brother’s breathing getting louder and more ragged beside him. He rolled down the window, tears clouding his vision.

A flashlight shined into the car. Once the glare faded, he made out two people. One of them was a slight figured brunette woman with short hair with thin lips and a disapproving, sarcastic frown. The other was a bald black man with broad shoulders and facial hair, a few inches taller than her.

“Son, how old are you?” the man said gruffly.

“I-I’m fourteen, officer, but please, I have to get my brother to the hospital.” Sam was stuttering and crying so hard he could barely see now. He felt like everything that could ever truly matter in his world was about to be taken away from him. Dean had always protected him, fended for him, figured everything out so that he would be safe. Now Dean needed him, and if he couldn't help him, then he was completely worthless.

The woman looked into the car, took one look at the the second boy, and then sprung into action. Her eyes widened and she turned to her partner and said “Victor, go get that other boy, we’re driving them to the hospital now.”

The man, Victor, seemed to recognize this tone of urgency and didn't ask a single question. He hurried over the the passenger’s side, unbuckled Dean, and carried him over to the police car. The woman, Officer Mills, her name tag read, helped Sam over as well. With both boys settled into the police car, they drove off.

“That car your parents?” the man asked.

“M-My brother’s, offi-cer… um..”

“Henriksen.” he said, a little more gently, trying to read the situation.

“More importantly, what happened to him? And what are your names?” Officer Mills asked.

“I-I’m Sam. This is Dean. And it’s a long story.” his voice broke on the last two words. The officers looked at each other and nodded.


	2. The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having lost their mother and brother when they were younger, Sam and Dean Winchester already had enough grief on their plate without their drunken, abusive father coming down on them all the time. Dean took the brunt of his anger, being the older brother and played off any injuries on other excuses. Better than than lose Sammy to the system. And so it continued on until one day, when John was really drunk and got a bit carried away. The next thing Dean knew, he was in the E.R. with a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes staring at him. John's secret is discovered, and the boys have Child Protective Services breathing down their necks. Dean and Sam have to figure out how to move on from their father and try to make a new life. Only one thing can seem to distract Dean from this hell he seems to be stuck in...

They arrived at the hospital and Officer Henriksen carried Dean in, Sam and Officer Mills following quickly behind them. Everything happened really fast. Medical staff rushed forward to grab Dean and get him onto a gurney so he could be transported to the E.R. Officer Henriksen went with them to give a little bit of information. Officer Mills wouldn't let Sam follow. He was hysterical. 

“No! No!” he screamed. “I have to go with him. I can’t leave him! I promised I wouldn't leave him!” 

“Hey, hey hey hey hey. Hey, look at me. Sam. Sam!” she put her hands on his shoulders and he stopped. “Your brother is going to be fine, okay? He’s got help now, you can relax. You did your part, but I need you to talk to me about this okay?” Sam nodded and slumped a little, emotionally and physically drained, still crying steadily. 

They walked to the waiting room by the E.R. so they would be available when Dean was ready. They sat down across from each other and she looked at him gently, compassionately. 

“So, Sam. Why don’t we start with where you guys were when this happened? That’s probably a pretty simple question to open up with.” 

Sam took a deep breath and paused before replying, his voice still catching when he said “At home.” The officer raised her eyebrows a little. She hadn't been expecting that. 

“Honey, what happened?” she turned her head to the side a little to see his face better.

“Look Officer Mills, it-”

“Jody.” she said. “You can call me Jody.” she didn't know why, but she was really taking to this kid. She wanted to make sure he was alright. 

“Okay, well, Jody. It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, you said that before, kid, but I gotta know what happened.” he looked hesitant so she added “It will help us keep your brother safe. That got through to him. He didn't care what they had to face as long as Dean was safe. 

“It was our dad.” he said quietly, feeling like his throat was clogged. His mouth was sticky and dry and he was no longer crying, but his eyes were puffy and swelled. Jody’s mouth opened a little and her eyes widened. 

“Oh, Sam. Does this happen often?” she asked quietly, heart breaking from the thought of a boy like this living in that kind of house. He just nodded and looked down. 

“What’s going to happen?” Sam asked, his voice far too full of despair and pain to belong to a fourteen-year-old. He didn't get his answer, though, because a nurse came and told them that Dean was awake at the moment. Sam sprung up, worried and at the same time glad, and went to go see him. 

\----------

The first thing Dean saw when he woke up was a fair of unfamiliar blue eyes. Not just blue, but a shocking, bright, clear blue. He didn't know whose eyes they were, but they seemed to hold everything. Then he remembered what had happened. Shit, he thought, am I dead? He then registered the beeping and the hustle of the room around him. He felt the bed beneath him and the tubes inside his veins. He was sore and could barely see out of his left eye. The blue eyes looked up at somebody else and then back down at him, and Dean saw that they belonged to a young man that was probably close to his age, maybe a little older. The boy smiled at him and walked away. 

“Dean!” now that sound he knew.

“Sammy!” his voice didn't come out very loudly and then he started coughing. Sam approached the bed. 

“How do you feel?” Sam asked tentatively. 

“Like a million friggin’ bucks.” Dean coughed again, wincing and scrunching his eyebrows together. “What’s going on?”

“We’re at the hospital. You were unconscious and bleeding a lot.” Sam said.

“We’re what?? Wha- how? How did we get here? How long have I been out?” Dean was freaking out. Their dad certainly hadn't brought them here, and he hadn't driven. If Sam had called 911, that meant people probably knew, and if people knew…. they could be separated. They would take Sam. 

“Um… long story?” Sam knew he was dead. Dean narrowed his eyes. “Sam, what did you do?” he said slowly. Sam mumbled at first and spoke up when Dean raised his eyebrows. 

“I...drove your car. I had to get you here, and-”

“Why didn't you just call 911??”

“I had to get past dad, and-”

“Is she damaged?”

“No, Dean, your car is fine. A couple of cops pulled me over and drove us the rest of the way here. And then… I told them what happened.”

Dean felt like his world shattered right then and there. He didn't care if he got beaten every single day. All he wanted was to be with Sam and keep him safe. He was going to bring Sammy with him when he graduated high school, help him go to college and be a lawyer like he wanted to, and build a life without John. His own scars didn't matter. They never had, but this did. If he lost Sam…. No. They would just leave a little bit earlier than he had intended. He couldn't be mad at Sam though. Not for tackling John, or telling the cops or anything else. John had blamed them for everything, and Sam didn't need any more blame. If Dean had just remembered the beer it all would have been fine. 

“Sam, we-”

“Excuse me.” a woman’s voice said gently from the foot of the bed. “Are you Sam and Dean?” Sam nodded at her and she smiled. “Boys, what’s your last name?” they looked at each other. 

“Winchester.” Sam said. She wrote something down on her clipboard, crossed over to the bed, and sat down in a chair next to them. She had a skinny face, full lips, dark brown eyes, and wavy, flaming red hair. She introduced herself as Anna Milton, and she said she could help them. 

“Boys, the things your father did to you were inhumane, cruel and intolerable. Most importantly, none of it will ever happen again. Do you know of any other family that you could stay with?” They shook their heads.

“No, our family’s all dead.” Dean told her. 

“Well, we’ll see if we can find anybody. We've already found your father. He was very drunk, but he admitted to everything. He will most likely be locked up for a very long time, probably lifelong. Our goal is to find the two of you a safe place to live, and to try to keep you together.” 

“I’m seventeen. I can take care of both of us.” Dean said.

“No.” Anna smiled. “But I love the face that that’s your first instinct. You’re a brave man, Dean.” she said. “Now, try to get some rest. I’m here if you want to talk. I know how hard all of this is, but I promise you that things do get better. Starting right now.” she walked back out to give them some privacy and figure things out. The boys looked at each other, unsure of what about to happen. 

Dean fell asleep moments after that, crying silently with his brother’s tears joining his own on the side of his face.


End file.
